


Ready to Start

by groggyluck (abyssobrotulaCronos)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accidents, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyssobrotulaCronos/pseuds/groggyluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now you're knocking at my door<br/>Saying "please, come out with us tonight"<br/>But I would rather be alone<br/>Than pretend I feel alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to Start

**Author's Note:**

> [The song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rwdUVjyxWrM) hasn't much to do with the situation itself, but the title suits it just fine.

            l.

            You can’t sleep when it is dark. Usually you stay up until the sun rises in the line of the horizon and the rays illuminate the whole room, you believe the brightness washes away the mean spirits and the bad thoughts, the damp emotion that doesn't even harm you anymore but keeps you from healing at the core. The wound is not fresh anymore, like when it sat down inside your chest and decided to stay there for a never-ending while, no, now it is frightening because ceased to grow and remains rotten and wet, drowned in a quite large puddle of intense sadness.

            But the dark brings it all up at once. When you’re awake in the middle of the night, you feel it standing up and shaking your bloodstream with it’s toxic speed in a frenetic rhythm. Then you cry, simply because you can’t shove it away (you've tried before) nor gently tell it to leave. It belongs to you now, it is your own brand of depression and is fulfilled with blood, pieces of shattered glass and the screams that echo in a familiar voice.

            The small glimpses of shine appear in the corner of your vision among the huge and voluptuous masses of shadows, they tell you that maybe you’re going insane, maybe you've lived inside this awful memory for too long, maybe it’s your turn now. But why? You can’t help but wonder if you really deserve it. Along with the selfish need to reassure yourself of things that don’t matter now as much as they could have mattered before, you keep repeating to yourself that this wasn't you fault, no, you weren't the one driving, you weren't the one who didn't see the driver trespassing in full speed from your right, though you were the one who screamed his name, the one who shakily dialed 911 and cried with his – still warm – body in your arms. That was not how you wanted to remember him, that was not how he would have wanted you to. So you close your eyes and you see...

            Dirk had a rare smile that was definitely worth the wait, along with clear, bright, orange eyes that reminded you of your beloved pumpkins back in the island, he smelled like cheap masculine perfume and oil whenever he came out from the garage, had a personal way of showing what he felt, at first shy and unsure and then caring, embracing what you felt as well, silently telling you that yes, he knew you loved him too. He was nothing like the body you held for ten minutes before the ambulance arrived. His skin was nothing like that bloodied and ripped one, his face was soft and sometimes harsh due to his stubble, not swollen nor purple and yellow. That wasn't your Dirk, the Dirk you came home with after your classes, not the Dirk you waited for when he had extra classes during the afternoon, not the one who could be a bit distant sometimes but that understood you felt like this as well when you missed your island, the tropical environment and your exotic friends. Your boyfriend, the love of your life.

            This was a carcass that just minutes before had been full of life and quick talking, wondering if you two were really late for the movie or if the trailers had decided to be a bit longer just this day. He didn't see the other car, the driver didn't see him and you didn't even think your night would end up like this.

            Three seconds, that was all that took for some crude god to turn your life upside-down.

            When you open your eyes again, you see the empty space that he has left in the bed you shared, the lights are all off and it’s almost 5 am. You have class in two hours and you’re going to take a quick nap before taking a shower and proceeding to follow the same routine you've been following the past months. Then you’re getting home, sleeping during the afternoon and watching some shitty show on T.V. Maybe if you’re feeling specially awful, you’re gonna drink a bit, a habit you've acquired since you got home from the hospital carrying a huge void inside you and opened your liquor’s cabinet, the small doors hiding a rather abundant stash made of wine, rum – your favourite –, cheap whiskey – Dirk’s favourite – and three or four bottles of vodka. Well, long short story. You drank. And when you drank, you saw it filled the void inside you. And then you realized as long as you never stopped drinking it would never be empty anymore! What was quite a mistake, because if your stubborn head wasn't going to stop putting alcohol in, your body was going to put it all out at some point.

            That was how you coped – if you can call any of this of a proper coping. You've seen people destroying themselves because of tragedies and you always told yourself you were going to get a hold of the situation were anything bad happen to you. Well, it is surely easy to talk. The danger doesn't warn you when it’s coming, it just lurks, sniffs the ground you stepped on, studies you as a whole and then attacks, bites right where you weren't protecting and swallows a huge part of your being, takes it away forever. It may heal, it may not sting anymore, but said part will never be there again. Nobody is ever ready to death that isn't their own.

 

           ll.

            There will be a point where you’ll have to stand up, look at your reflection in the mirror and say “This is it, today is gonna be the day that I’m gonna gather the missing pieces,” and then you will laugh and cry alone, because you can never get it back. Not even in your wildest dreams, but those will be long gone by then. However, you will see you can try to recover a great part of what you lost and you’re gonna go outside, look up and see the sun is shining like it never shone before because you had never looked at it for the first time after experiencing some kind of metamorphosis, you’re gonna walk around the town and wonder why is everything still the same, sometimes warm, sometimes cold, crowds moving together in a liquid fashion that you can see in many parts of the globe. The world never stopped while you did, but you don't feel like you missed anything; it was plainly necessary. You’re gonna call Roxy, you’re gonna call Jane. You will tell them that you’re awake and they’re gonna tell you it was about time, that they’ll be waiting for you in the exact moment you are ready to see them.

            And you will. You will let yourself walk around without feeling heaviness and will remember Dirk in a very loving way - sad, but valid -, looking at the stores you would enter and spend hours hunting for books and movies, eating in the places he liked the most – even if one of them is Taco Bell.

            You know you’re gonna pick yourself up and glue the pieces together, even if they keep forever cracked. They are firm again, they can still hold your essence with the strength of the many dreams and hopes you had and will be ready to start again with ones you will have. You’re like a vase with multiple patterns, only interrupted by the small irritations in between the drawings, around the broken sheds, but they’re still composing the artwork as well as it's past. And everyone who looks at it will surely think “That vase was broken!”.

            Because, well, once it was.

            But not anymore.


End file.
